


Angel of Music

by redth0t13



Category: Bad Times at the El Royale (2018)
Genre: 1960s, Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Cults, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Forced Marriage, Harems, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Love Triangles, Manipulation, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Multiple Personalities, Murder, Past Abuse, Phantom of the Opera references, Please Don't Hate Me, Singing, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-04-07 16:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19088608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redth0t13/pseuds/redth0t13
Summary: Lucille thought that she had gotten away from Billy Lee and his "family" years ago. However, due to strange circumstances, the life she built up for herself shatters as she finds out that she might not be as safe from him as she thought before. Now she tries her best to stop the inevitable: him coming back to reclaim his songbird and angel of music.





	1. Chapter 1

**_Lucille_ **

****

            She awoke in a cold sweat in the early hours of the morning, the bed cold and the room dark. Her hand reached out to her right, only to feel the cold emptiness of her missing partner. Her eyes lazily glided toward the digital clock on her fiancé’s nightstand, which read _six thirty_. With a sigh she sat up and stretched, running her hands through her nearly-white, curly hair. She began to hum a quiet tune as she swung her legs over the mattress and slipped her feet into the fuzzy, pink slippers that sat beside her bed, perfectly lined up so that when she woke up all she had to do was step into them.

            The blinds let in tiny blue slivers of light through the gaps, and Lucille peeked through them to see if her beloved was sitting outside, looking at the lake behind their home. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw that he wasn’t.

            Lucille didn’t believe herself to be a good housewife, like Roger’s sister or even her own mother. Lucille often slept in later than him, she couldn’t cook, nor did she know how to work an iron. However, she loved him, and she supposed that was all that mattered. She opened his closet and set out his white, button-down shirt along with a black tie, before looking on the floor for his work shoes, which she couldn’t seem to find. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before circling around and looking under the bed. She let out a deep sigh when she realized that they probably weren’t in the bedroom, which meant that she had forgotten to bring them in from the living room.

            She stood, straightening out her white nightgown and huffing at the amount of dirt on her elbows. She really was a bad housewife.

            Roger stepped into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist and his brown hair darker with water and soaking wet. Little droplets of water traced down his neck and chest and Lucille couldn’t help but think about how she would have to clean up the water later before it ruined the wooden floors. He looked at her with a small, innocent smile that made her heart melt.

            “You’re up early.” He said to her while moving toward the bed. She put up her index finger as a way to say _wait a minute_ while she moved toward the drawers and pulled out his underwear and slacks. She smiled at him lovingly while placing the items of clothing on the bed.

            “Do you really think you’re putting on that nice, white shirt with your hair soaked like that? It’ll be see through by the time you’re out the door.” She joked, prompting a small laugh from him. He grabbed onto his underwear and pulled them up his legs before handing her his towel.

            “Then clean me up, my love.” He said teasingly. She threw the towel back at his chest in a playful way.

            “Do it yourself, stud. We both know that you won’t make it to work if I do _that_ for you.” She told him before walking off. He watched as she left, but before she got to the door he spoke.

            “Where are you going?”

            “I’m putting on a pot of coffee. Why?” Roger placed the towel atop his head, rubbing furiously and sprinkling water atop their grey sheets. Lucille, in that moment, could have sworn she was going to snap due to how reckless he was, but she knew that he was better than where she was in the past.

            “I already got it.” And there it was. The reason for her staying with him, despite how obliviously sloppy he was. In all honesty, Roger was like the human equivalent of a puppy dog. He meant well, and he loves you unconditionally, even if he destroys everything in his path.

            She smiled at him.

            “Just get ready, baby.” She told him before feeling the anxiety that she was forgetting something wash over her.

            “Are you buying lunch today?” She asked. Roger nodded as he buttoned up his shirt. Lucille simply gave a thumbs up as she began to walk down the hall.

            She made her way into the kitchen and grabbed a mug that was left out on the counter, and she felt a wave of disappointment and mortification wash over her. All she could think about was how she was failing at being a housewife before they got married, and she was left wondering what would happen to them once they did. Part of her was afraid he’d leave her, and the other part was worried that she’d leave him, though it wouldn’t entirely be her choice.

            She began pouring the bitter, black liquid into her mug when she felt Roger’s arms snake around her waist.

            “Am I a bad housewife?” She asked, somewhat jokingly to hide her self-consciousness. She felt Roger’s head shift on her shoulder and felt his breath tickle her neck.

            “Yes…” He trailed off, feeling her slump in his arms.

            “But it isn’t entirely your fault.” She felt her heart drop. Suddenly she felt like she was going to vomit.

            “Then who’s fault is it, Roger?” She asked, a certain dangerousness in her voice. She felt Roger’s hands leave her hips as he turned her around, his brown eyes gleaming with, what she interpreted as, pity.

            “Not yours.” He said in a tone that told her to stop asking. His hand found hers and he squeezed it reassuringly. They didn’t say another word to one another until he left, and even then she didn’t speak to him.

            Lucille felt as if her poor choices in the past had finally caught up to her. She was finally getting to control her own life, yet as time went on she felt more and more out of control of herself and her life. No matter how many times people tell her it wasn’t her fault, no matter how many times they try to reassure her, she’ll always feel guilt.

            Her hand came up to grasp at the ring around her neck, and she smiled, despite the tears that fell down her cheeks.

 

2

 

Roger came home to Lucille, sitting on the couch, waiting for him. She was dressed up, with her hair pulled back and her makeup done. She wore the pearls that she had gotten from him on their one-year anniversary, and the white dress with black lace on the end that she had gotten from her mother that Christmas. She made sure to look perfect for him after cleaning the house all day and cooking. Although, the cake she tried to make didn’t seem to come out right, she knew that she couldn’t go wrong with a TV dinner.

He took one look at her before throwing his briefcase to the side and smashing his lips to hers, smearing her lipstick slightly. Her eyes were wide and her hands were up between them in shock. She wasn’t sure why she was fighting it, but she knew that something didn’t feel right about this. She worked hard that day because of the way he was acting toward her, not because she wanted sex.

She pushed him away gently, smiling awkwardly at him while he stared in confusion.

“I made dinner.” She watched as his face fell.

“It’s a TV dinner. All I had to do is microwave it.” She admitted, bringing the smile back to his face. He kicked off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen, where the microwavable meals were sitting on the table. Lucille couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Is my cooking really that bad?” She asked, astonished.

“Yes.” Roger answered as he sat down at the table. Lucille sat in the chair across from him with forks and napkins in hand. She placed his fork and napkin in front of him before doing the same for herself, and awkwardly watched as he dug in. Her hand went back to the necklace again, clasping around the ring that hung from it.

“Roger, I have a question.” She spoke up finally, yet this brought her no relief. She wasn’t even sure whether she wanted to bring this up, but now she had to say something, even if she decided not to go through with asking. He looked up from his meal, his innocent eyes melting her heart again. He swallowed before speaking.

“Yes, my love?” Lucille took in a sharp breath, finding it hard to put the words together. She knew what she wanted to say, what she needed to bring up, but she was afraid. She was afraid that if she were to mention it then he’d return; then she’d betray herself and go back to him.

“Have I been… acting strange?” She finally asked. The room suddenly fell silent. Roger stared at her, his brown eyes wide with shock. Lucille looked down at her untouched dinner, feeling as if she were going to puke at any moment. She heard the clank of metal against their wooden table and knew that he had put down his fork. His hand reached across the table to grab hers, and once her cold hand was in his grasp he began to stroke it with his thumb.

“I didn’t want to alarm you…” That was when she snapped. She stood up, the chair falling backward and banging on the wooden floors, tears falling from her face, smearing her makeup down her cheeks as she completely let go. Her fists were balled and she felt her long nails digging into her palms.

“Didn’t want to alarm me?” She asked, her voice chillingly calm for someone who looked as enraged as Lucille.

“Didn’t want to alarm me?” She shouted, repeating the same sentence over again. Her hands flew up to her hair, her fingers raking through her platinum locks as she began to panic.

“What have I been doing?” She asked, her voice uneven and scared. Roger shook his head.

“Y-you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that big of a deal… I just figured you were-”

“Roger!” She shouted, completely hysterical by that point. Her breathing was uneven as she sobbed.

“Please tell me that you didn’t give her your name. Tell me that you put her back where she belongs so she can’t hurt you.” She demanded. Roger looked down, and suddenly she felt her whole world shatter. She couldn’t remember a damn thing he was talking about, but she knew what had happened.

“Sometimes I’d wake up and you were next to me, but sat up…” Roger began, looking down in shame and fear. Lucille couldn’t seem to wrap her head around his thought process, she was too hysterical to try. He was in danger now and she knew it, they both were. She walked over to him, and although he didn’t cower she could tell that he was uncomfortable. She knelt down, placing a kiss on his lips before slumping into his chest.

“Roger…” She wept. He held her close.

“Other times you’d be in here, next to the phone.” He said, knowing that he was dooming himself. Lucille looked up, her face even more alarmed.

“But when you… she… was in here I knew not to try anything.” Lucille nodded, her hand clasping around his tightly.

“I know, Rog, and I’m proud of you for trying.” She began to sob again. He cradled her head next to his chest, holding her there securely, thus giving her the security she thought she had when she met him.

“But we don’t know if she…”

“We do, Rog, it’s too late. We gotta get outta here.” Lucille whimpered. All Roger could do was hold her, and that’s what he did. She loved him because he was sweet, because when he found out about what had happened to her he didn’t turn away. Most importantly, however, she loved him because she believed he could protect her from both herself and the man from her past.

However, Lucille knew this wouldn’t last.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Lucy_ **

****

            She awoke in the dead of night. The room was completely dark, not even the light of the moon could illuminate the space. Goosebumps littered her flesh as she swept her legs out of the sheets and into the coolness of the room. She looked behind her at the lump in the bed that was called _“Lucille’s fiancé,”_ and she had to make sure he wasn’t going to get up.

            Slowly, she slid out of bed, forgoing the slippers, and made her way down the hall. She had done this many times before, and she would never forget how jarring and upsetting the first time she woke up in that house was. The last place she had woken up, before being dragged to the place she was now, was Lucille’s parents’ house. At least she had recognized there, at least she knew where she was.

            She could hear owls cooing outside the window in the living room, and it brought a small smile to her face. She was reminded of when she lived outdoors, when she would roam the land as her own person; free. Although, there was always the nagging thought in the back of her head that it was _Lucille_ and not _her_. He would always be after _Lucille_ , not _her_. He didn’t even know she existed, but he would. He would know that she was real and waiting for him to come rescue her from the prison that was _“Lucille’s American Dream.”_

Her eyes found the phone that was situated on the wall, above the counter. She sat upon it, her white nightgown riding up her thighs as she ran her hands across them anxiously. She found herself thinking of his last words to Lucille. He sounded so threatening and serious, and she was sure that he would keep his word. Had he shown her or Lucille any reason to believe he wouldn’t? She remembered it rather vividly, despite it not being her who lived through it.

            _Lucy, through the memories of Lucille, watched the fire dance before her. It was warm, and she desperately craved it in the cool of the night._ She felt anger, but she felt the unbelievable heartache and confusion that Lucille felt.

            _She had no belongings with her; she had left them all behind when she was swept off her feet by him._

            _He approached her from behind; silently, coolly. He was like a predator hunting its prey, and he wanted her._ Only her. Lucy felt her heart swell just thinking of it. He wanted her to stay, no _needed_ her to stay. She had convinced herself that she was everything he had ever wanted, that he’d travel the world and back to find her. It was a delusion, and at least Lucille was able to see it as such.

            _He had sat down beside her, watching her, his gaze cold and almost angry. Lucy (Lucille) looked at him, afraid suddenly. He didn’t say anything, and she felt shame come over her. He knew why she was there, why she wasn’t sleeping with everyone else. She was having a hard enough time trying to build up the courage to leave, and now he was there to make it worse._

Lucy’s eyes darted to the black phone that sat on the hook. She felt tears building up and she desperately hoped he would call to tell her that he was coming to get her. _“If I have to wake up next to that bumbling idiot one more time…”_ She thought, feeling the tears spill down her cheeks out of anger. Her heart ached; she wanted nothing more than to just see him again. She wanted him to know where she was.

            _“Billy…” She breathed lowly, clutching her body closer to her. He said nothing again. She felt herself breaking under his intense gaze. It was almost as if he were drawing her back in with it, and she was desperate to get away from him._

_“Please… please just go. I don’t want - I’m leaving. Whether you like it or not.” She sobbed, causing him to cock an eyebrow._

_“Doesn’t sound like you want to, darlin’.” He commented finally, reaching out to touch her cheek. His thumb glided across, wiping at her tears. She jerked away._

_“Stop.” She muttered. His hand dropped and he placed it atop hers. She glanced at it with glossy eyes, and soon she found that she didn’t want to leave._ He had that effect on her, and while it scared Lucille, it excited Lucy.

            _“Fine. But just so you know…” He grabbed her face, turning her to look at him. Her eyes were wide with fear_ , or excitement in Lucy’s case, _as she pondered what he was going to do to her. His lips grazed hers in a sickeningly teasing way, and as she leaned in closer he moved away. The look on his face told her not to try it again._

_“I’ll always be here, all you gotta do is call and I’ll come lookin’.” He leaned toward her ear, nearly pressing his lips to it in the process._

_“If anyone thinks they can get between you and I…” He laughed._

_“Well darlin’, they’re fucked.”_

Lucy laid her head against the wall, thinking about this and smiling to herself. He’d always be there for them, whether Lucille liked it or not. She wasn’t there when he had spotted them at that masquerade a couple weeks ago, when Roger had blacked out and Lucille had to sit him in the car. Little did she know that when she was loading him into the passenger seat **she** blacked out. Lucy giggled to herself at the memory. _Poor Lucille really stressed herself out that night_ , Lucy thought, _I guess it was fate that I decided to relieve her from driving._ As soon as Lucy took over she saw him, stalking down the street, coming from the same direction Roger and her came from. She pulled her mask off, but she knew that he had recognized her. She was surprised that Lucille hadn’t seen him earlier, but she knew how nervous poor Lucille was earlier in the night about it. The white mask he wore couldn’t stop Lucy from recognizing him, nothing ever would, she’d be able to tell it was him no matter what.

            At first she was dumbfounded, of course, normally he didn’t come too close to the city, yet there he was. Lucy had convinced herself that he was there for her.

Part of her wondered why Lucille, the woman who seemed to hate him with almost every fiber of her being, would choose to stay in California. She knew that he was there, always lurking, yet she stayed. After a while, Lucy would come to realize that that same reason was why **_she_** was there in the first place: Lucille loved him still. Almost all of Lucille’s longing for Billy and the life they had led together was graciously gifted to Lucy in a warped, bloodied bow.

            Lucy knew that, if she pressed the right buttons, Lucille would love him again. She’d have no choice. Although, the mere thought of him being with Lucille over her broke her heart, she knew it was for the best. After all, even Lucy knew that a war between them would only result in tragedy. _Or worse,_ she thought to herself, _she’d drag me back into living like this._

            However, the thought of what was to come kept her hopes up.

            The night of the masquerade was like a dream. All she wanted was to see him again, and she was over the moon when he walked up to her, pulling the mask off completely and bringing tears of joy to her eyes as she finally saw _him_. Not a dream, not some mystery man in a mask; it was **_her_** Billy.

            _“You had me worried, angel.” He said to her, placing his hand on her cheek. Lucy nuzzled into his touch._

_“I’m so bored.” She lamented, looking up into his amused eyes._

_“I wanna go home, baby.” She continued on, holding onto his hand. He smiled widely at this. He dropped his mask, bringing his other hand to hers and gripping it tightly, yet he pulled her toward him gently, countering the pressure she felt on her hand. However, she could feel something digging in the back of her mind; something clawing and trying to get out, like it was buried alive. Lucy’s eyes widened._

_“She’s comin’ back. I can’t go now.” Lucy ripped her hand away, and as she turned around she could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of her skull._

_“Come find me!” She begged as she turned around. He looked down at her with a blank face. She was panicking, and the last thing she needed was for Lucille to come back and ruin this for her._

_“I’ll get you the info you need, don’t worry – but you have to go! She can’t mess this up for me!” She told him._

            She smiled down at her hands, which were folded perfectly in her lap. The only thing her and Lucille seemed to agree on was how to dress. Despite her aversion to the color white, Lucy liked the silk nightgowns Lucille often wore, but she knew she’d have to convince her to ditch those awful pink slippers.

            Suddenly, the phone rang. The bell was almost obnoxious as it went off throughout the quiet house.

            _Ring, ring, ring, ring_

            Lucy was quick to snatch it off of its receiver. She held the phone close to her, feeling her heart swell with joy. Her fingers laced themselves in the cord of the telephone, but instead of playing with it, she held it firmly in her grasp. She smiled widely, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

            “Hello?” She asked, her voice breathy and dream-like.

            “Hey there my little songbird.” He greeted in that familiar drawl. She smiled wider, almost squeaking with joy.

            “I’m glad to see I got it right. You did say his last name was Chamberlain, right?” He asked her, prompting her to nod vigorously.

            “Yeah, I made sure to go through his wallet while he was sleeping that night.” She whispered. He chuckled at this.

            “Sweetheart, is he sleeping now?” He inquired, his voice lower than before. Lucy looked over her shoulder and into the dark hallway.

            “He might be awake. The phone’s loud.” She told him, worry evident in her tone. Billy could only sigh.

            “I’ll be there in a few days, angel, then you don’t have to worry.” He reassured her. She nodded again before hearing soft footsteps. She looked over her shoulder, her platinum locks whipping full force and temporarily blinding her. She turned back around, hunching over the phone.

            “The dumbass is up. I’ll talk to you when you get here, my love.” She whispered before hanging up. She stood in the corner, resting her head on one of the cabinets beside her and closing her eyes, making it seem like she was sleepwalking.

            Roger stumbled down the hallway, half asleep. Lucy heard his clunky footsteps get louder as he got closer to her and she nearly outwardly cringed. She could hear his heavy breathing next to her, and she felt the urge to run. Lucy really **_could_** **_not_** **_stand_** Roger. Everything he did got on her nerves, and she couldn’t understand why Lucille would settle for a man like him when she had Billy.

            “Lucille, sweetheart?” Roger asked, his voice raspy. Lucy merely whined, turning her head slightly.

            “Come on baby, come back to bed.” He whispered, his hand going to the small of her back while his other gently wrapped around her upper arm. He began to lead her down the hall, and all she could think about was how she’d be free of him at last.

            A smile made its way to her lips as she laid her head down on the pillow. Billy was coming now and there was no stopping it.

            _Her savior was coming for her at last._


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_Lucille_ **

           She rolled over in bed, her eyes opening slowly. The room was pitch black and she couldn’t see a thing, but she could tell someone was there, staring at her in that inky blackness. Her hand stretched over her fiancé’s usual spot, only to find that it was cold and empty. Her heart sped up and she wondered what time it was. She hoped that Roger had gotten up; she hoped it was almost six in the morning. She hoped that her fiancé was safe… and she hoped that she would be safe.

            As her eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding her she could see more clearly; everything in the room had more of a silhouetted look, large shadows replacing the items in her room that she knew wouldn’t hurt her. The eerie quiet did nothing to calm her nerves. Her eyes were drawn to the corner of the room, near her door, where she saw a figure. She refrained from gasping or shrinking away, instead she sat up, holding the sheets to her form, despite being fully clothed.

            The figure stood as still as a statue, seemingly staring down at her frightened appearance. It was tall and lean, and she could tell that the person had their hands in their pockets. She could hear their faint breathing, though she couldn’t understand how she could over the constant beating of her heart that thudded loudly in her ears.

            Her eyes were stinging with tears and her tongue felt heavy. If she weren’t so afraid she’d assume she was having an allergic reaction to something. Her lips felt incredibly dry, as did her mouth. She wanted to speak, but the mere thought of it sent an uncomfortable surge through her gut. She knew who was standing there; she just didn’t want to admit it.

            “Roger?” She finally called out, her voice so soft she wasn’t sure the figure would hear it.

            “Hey there my little songbird.” Her whole body went numb at the familiar drawl. She let out a small sob as the feeling of dread overtook her.

            She knew where Roger was… and he wasn’t going to be able to save her.

            “It’s been a while.” Billy continued. She reached for the lamp on her nightstand, her hand fumbling under the lampshade. He didn’t move or flinch, because even he knew she wasn’t going to throw it. She turned it on.

            Light flooded the room immediately and she saw the man for the first time in years. It was strange for her at first, considering how it looked like he hadn’t aged, but she was sure he was thinking the same thing as her.

            Her eyes were shining with tears and her mouth was slightly agape. It was obvious that she didn’t know how he got there; how he found her. Her hands gripped the blankets so tight her knuckles were white, and he saw the absolute fear and shock written all over her. She shrunk back as he began to approach the bed.

            “Please don’t.” She utters in a voice no louder than a whisper. He stopped in his tracks at her words, but continued walking to her after a moment.

            “Have I done anything to hurt ya, angel?” He asked as he took a seat on her bed. She brought her knees up to her chest and looked down. It was a subconscious thing that she developed when she was living with him: she wouldn’t look in his eyes. It started toward the end of their supposed relationship; when things became sour and love turned to hate and anger. She was sure he would have found someone better than her, someone who would turn a blind eye to his ways and love him unconditionally… just as she had.

            _She still does_.

            She heard the radio turn on in the kitchen and flinched. The innocent yet haunting voices of Patience and Prudence echoed throughout the house. Billy looked over his shoulder at the door and a smile came to his face.

            “That’s better. It was too quiet, don’t ya think?” He turned back around to face her. She still wasn’t looking him in the eye.

            “People were sleeping…” She remarks under her breath. He lets out a small, breathy chuckle before taking her chin in his hand. He tilted her head up to look at him, and the moment her eyes met his she felt as if she couldn’t look away. He was real, he was there, and he was going to take her back. Whether or not she actually wanted to go back didn’t seem to matter, not to mention the fact that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay there anyway.

            It was odd for her, seeing as she was so sure that she despised him. She knew deep down that, no matter what she did, she would never be satisfied with her life. She would hate being a housewife, despite how much she loved Roger, and she would be bored without Billy. She knew how toxic this was – he was – but she couldn’t get away.

            He leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead in a tauntingly gentle manner. Lucille felt as if she were going to pass out.

            “Why’re you here?” She asked. He pulled away, tilting his head.

            “You wanted me to find you…” Lucille didn’t respond.

            “You want me to go back with you.” She states. He nods slowly, and her eyes locked with his again. They were red from her silent crying, but they were fierce. They were cold and filled with anger. She stared at him, trying to get through to him; trying to make him understand that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go back. She wanted him to make a decision for her: leave her there with Roger or take her back. She didn’t know that he was hell bent on reclaiming her.

            A loud cry of agony cut through the tense silence between the two, bringing Lucille out of her thoughts. She turned around, placing her hand on the headboard to try and peer through the window. Billy reached for her, bringing her toward him and making her look at him again.

            “Forget about that, baby. We’re gettin’ outta here.” He states lowly. Lucille can’t bring herself to respond. She knew what was happening outside, and she felt her heart break.

            Billy held out his hand as he got up, waiting for Lucille to take it and leave with him. She stared at it for a few moments before realizing that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was leaving with Billy or dying on the lawn with Roger. She loved Roger, but she knew that her other half resented him for taking the life she wanted away from her. Billy’s expression was soft and friendly, but she saw the hungriness in his eyes; the impatient nature he possessed.

            She took his hand.

            He led her down the hallway, passed the rooms with doors open, passed the people she barely knew plundering her home. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad about what was happening to her home, considering that it was something that her and Roger worked to achieve; a monument to their love and tenacity. It was no longer a safe place.

            Billy’s hand was wrapped tightly around hers, maintaining a dominant air over her even when she was trailing behind him. He was in charge. He always was. They made it outside before she saw it.

            With a gasp-like shriek, she looked away. Roger was on the front lawn, lifeless, staring up at her. He was pale and stained with crimson, clashing with the bright green grass. He would have been hard to miss, even in the dark of the night. Billy tugged her closer, holding her tight and forcing her to look away from the body. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes were glistening with tears again, and she couldn’t get the image out of her head.

            _It’s my fault_ , she thought to herself as she stared blankly over Billy’s shoulder. _I killed him._

            She hardly reacted when he picked her up, opting to carry her some of the way until they got back to the Meeting Place. Her grip on his shoulders was harsh and her nails were digging into his skin. Tears fell from her eyes as she blinked them away.

            Everything she built up, everything she **_cared_** about, was gone.

            _Lucy should be happy._

 

2

 

            A fire was roaring before her. People yelled and danced freely, their silhouettes seemingly flickering with the flame as they moved. Lucille watched them with no emotion; no fear, no joy, no anger. She felt empty, much like she had when she first left this place.

            The night had a certain chill to it that she thought she wouldn’t have to endure again. Her knees were brought up to her chest again as she hugged her body. She rubbed away the goosebumps that tingled along her arms and legs. Her nightgown was never meant to be used outside of the house. She wasn’t sure why she was there, and she knew that she didn’t belong there, so she knew that she’d leave soon enough.

            Only to drag another poor soul down with her when history repeated itself.

            Part of her couldn’t understand why she couldn’t accept that this was her life. She was destined to be with him whether she liked it or not; she had no choice. He loved her in his own, sick way, and she had to accept that. Every time she ran off he’d come looking for her and he’d kill to get her back. She’d only be causing the deaths of the people she cared for if she chose to leave again.

            “Come on, angel. It’s gettin’ cold out, wouldn’t want ya to freeze.” He stated while helping her up. She looked behind him at the building he slept in with disgust and a tinge of jealousy, as messed up as that was.

            “How many other girls are in there?” She asked quietly. He looked over his shoulder before returning his burning gaze to her.

            “I don’t know what –”

            “Don’t lie to me, I’m not some innocent new recruit. How many?” She repeated, her voice sterner this time. His eyes widened at this, seeing as she hadn’t taken that tone with him since the night she left.

            He looked over at a man who had been watching over Lucille all night. He was someone Billy trusted, and he was instructed to watch over Lucille when he was elsewhere. Billy gestured toward the building subtly, and the man moved without question.

            “For you, my angel, none. If you want me to get rid of ‘em, consider it done.” He told her. She looked down.

            “Please, don’t call me that.” She begged before tearing herself from his grasp. The dilapidated building loomed over her as she approached it, ignoring the three girls that came scurrying out. They didn’t matter now; she knew he’d do anything to make sure she stayed, or at least, until he gets bored of her.

            She entered the dark building, her eyes set on the familiar round bed in the center. The pale light from the moon shining through the hole in the roof, illuminating the center of room in a ghostly fashion. She felt nothing as she laid in the silky sheets, her upper body landing on the multiple pillows that decorated the bed. She watched him approach her slowly, the same hunger in his eyes as before. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and when she opened them he was above her.

            “I just got back… can’t I have a night to myself?” She asked him in the same emotionless, quiet voice. He leaned down, ignoring her, and pressed his lips against hers. She felt sick, she had just lost her fiancé, and now he was trying to sleep with her. She knew, though, if he wanted it he was going to get it. What she had to say about it didn’t matter.

            His lips strayed from hers and wandered toward her neck while his hips spread her legs. She choked back a small sob, prompting him to look up at her. He saw the fear and abrasiveness in her eyes before she shut them, and found himself trying to correct that. His hand came up to her cheek, brushing it gently.

            “You know I want you to be happy here, right?” He asked. She merely nodded.

            “So you know that all you have to do is tell me no.” He continued. Her eyes opened and they met his again.

            “That doesn’t mean that you’ll listen.” She countered quietly. He smiled at her.

            “I listen. I just wanna change your mind.” His words were vile and made her sick to think about. She knew that he didn’t really listen, he was just spewing lies as usual. She looked away, toward the door and at the fire that raged outside. She felt him against her, and it was torture for her. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, or at least not in that sense. She wouldn’t mind if she had to spend the night with him, she didn’t mind if she had to cuddle into him for warmth in the dead of the night, but she didn’t want to be intimate with him just yet – if ever.

            “Alright,” he began, sitting up.

            “If you don’t want to, I won’t make you.” He finished as he laid next to her. She was staring up now, at the trees that hung low and branched into the hole in the roof.

            “How generous of you.” She mutters before letting out a small sigh. He heard her, but didn’t respond or react. Instead, he sat there and let her settle in next to him before placing his arm over her protectively. Her skin was cold and covered in goosebumps. All she had was him and the nightgown she wore when he took her back.

            She was trapped again with no one to turn to. She knew the price of running away, even when he was aware of it, and she knew not to make that mistake again. Roger was gone **_because_** she made that mistake. She only hoped Billy would have a good reaction to Lucy.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Billy Lee_ **

****

            For once, the sky was covered by grey clouds that hung low and looked almost ominous. A tarp was being set up so the inside of the building wouldn’t get wet.

Storms were coming and they were going to be wicked.

            Lucille was still in bed, sleeping soundly, despite what she went through the night before. Her form was still visible in spite of the low light of the room now that the tarps covered the hole in the roof.

            She lived so close to where he was, which struck him as odd. She was very desperate to get away when he last saw her, yet she lived not even two cities over. It was almost as if she was begging him to find her, but then again, she didn’t bother to run from him when he found her that night and she even gave him her number.

            The rain came down almost in an instant, pounding on the tarp and the stone alike. He looked over his shoulder at her, hearing her shift in bed again. A sigh left her and echoed slightly. Her eyes were squinted and she looked genuinely confused for a few moments before realizing what was going on. A small cry left her lips and he found himself rushing toward her, trying his best to keep her at bay. He feared that people would hear her discontent and see through what he was doing, see through his lies.

            Her hand came up to her chest and it grasped her gown. Her eyes quickly widened when she realized that her necklace was missing, and almost immediately her eyes met his. He smiled at her with his hand in his pocket. Of course he took her necklace; he needed it for what he wanted to do. Not only that, but before he went to see Lucille, he took her fiancé’s ring while he laid dying on the lawn.

            “Mornin’.” She averted his gaze again, losing whatever fire her hatred and anger fueled as soon as he spoke. He couldn’t help but smirk at this.

            “I know, last night was rough, but you’re here now, you got nothin’ to worry about.” He told her, his hand finding its way to the back of her neck. She looked down, but he knew that she was thinking something that would get her in trouble. A full-fledged smile came to his face as he thought of ways to put her back under his thumb.  

            “If you got somethin’ to say, angel, then say it.” With that she looked up, her eyes glistening, but they were softer than they were before.

            “Thank you, Billy.” She whispered in a sweet tone before her eyes changed again. She looked back down and slid off of the bed, walking away from him, toward the rain. He reached out, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back to him. Her words, her eyes, it was almost torture for him. Not only did she deny him what he wanted the night before, but she just teased him and tried to walk away.

            This time he didn’t pull her onto the bed. She stood between his knees while his hands rested on her hips. She seemingly refused to look at him, but this didn’t bother him. He didn’t care either way; he had her now and there was nothing that could change that. His fingers curled around the thin material of her nightgown and began to bunch it up around her waist. Her small sobs didn’t deter him, after all, she was his. She would forever be his, and he’d make sure of it.

            His hands traced along the smooth surface of her stomach, feeling every part of her before his hands found the elastic of her underwear. With a cry of surprise, she quickly grabbed ahold of his wrists. Her hands were cold and almost piercing against his warmth, but he wasn’t fazed by that, instead, he focused on how she tried to stop him. He couldn’t fathom the sheer audacity of her actions. Within time, she’d have no choice, she wouldn’t be able to fight against him. His hands returned to her hips, gripping them tightly in a way that caused her to cry out. In one move, he managed to throw her onto the bed.

            In that moment, he decided that she had some lessons to learn.

 

2

 

            He rolled the ring around between his fingers, staring at it intensely as Lucille sat beside the fire. She wasn’t too far from where he was sitting, but she was farther than he liked. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were stained with tears from earlier. He couldn’t wrap his head around her change in demeanor. Once again he was reminded of how excited and relieved she was to see him after the party.

He looked at her before moving closer. His hand moved over hers before she could move away from him again, and her frightened, sapphire eyes stared through him. It was almost as if she didn’t want to look at him, but she had no choice, so she stared through him.

“I was thinkin’…” He began, holding up the golden band to glisten in the low light of the fire. It winked at her in an almost teasing and knowing manner, as if to tell her that she failed and that he had her. Her eyes flickered between him and the small ring between his fingers. He took in her frightened expression again, but underneath he saw the spark of resistance, and he knew he had to squash it before it became too much.

“I figured that you could leave again, when I’m asleep, run off with some man who could never love you the way I do… and wait for you to call me ‘cause you can’t live without me… or… you could stay, I’ll treat you nice and give you whatever your pretty lil heart desires.” He offered, his eyes never once leaving her form. There was a flicker of disgust on her features before they settled back into the usual solemn pout. She looked away from the ring and into the fire, no doubt consumed by thought.

She had to have known he was right. He would chase her to the ends of the Earth, killing everyone who got in his way; killing anyone who got between them. There really was only one option, and she had to know to take it. If she were to refuse him, he’d probably snap and kill her right then and there. When she remained silent, he spoke up.

“Lucy, sweetheart, you left me without talkin’ it out last time. If anything you owe me-”

“I don’t owe you shit!” She yelled, jumping up from her spot in the grass. His eyes widened and he maneuvered the ring into his palm so she couldn’t throw it anywhere.

“Don’t you think I already gave you compensation for that this morning? Technically, I didn’t even give you it! You fucking took it without any care for how I felt about it or if you were hurting me!” She countered, tears running down her face as she shook with fury and fear. His eyes narrowed at this.

“And you hurt me when you left.” He stated. He watched as her face morphed from one of hurt to disgust.

“Fuck you.” She spat before turning away. He quickly scrambled to his feet to chase after her. He wrapped his hand around her wrist in a bruising fashion, causing her to hiss in pain and look back at him. The fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by glistening tears once more.

“I love you, I really do, but you’re makin’ this hard for me, songbird. I don’t wanna hurt you, but you’re forcin’ my hand.” He told her. He watched with concealed glee as she shook her head in fear. Her other hand was resting on top of his; her fingers worked tirelessly to pry his off of her wrist.

“Please Billy, don’t, I still love you,” she begged. “I don’t want you to hurt me, and that’s why I reacted like that. You hurt me really bad this morning and I don’t want it to happen again.” She explained, trying her best to calm him. He smiled at her, loosening his grip only slightly.

“There we go. See what happens when you just talk to me?” He taunted. He held the ring up again and pulled her hand closer to him.

“I promise you, if you marry me, I won’t hurt you no more.” He told her. She looked at the ring, then back up at him. Despite knowing that he was lying, she answered the only way she could.

“Fine. I’ll marry you, Billy.” He slipped the ring onto her finger, almost sealing her fate as his and his alone. There wasn’t much left to be done about it than have an actual ceremony.

Then there was silence between the two. Deafening silence that caused shivers to run up his back. There were distant yelps and moans from the others in the “family”, but there was silence where the two stood. She watched as his eyes widened with fear, and she knew what was going on. As if to keep him at bay, she began humming. It was a simple melody, but her voice always soothed him during these moments. When he dropped to his knees, she followed him to the ground, running her hands through his hair and muttering the words of a poem she wrote upon her leaving him. She began to wonder how he dealt with this when she was gone, and she wondered if that was the reason why he felt the urge to punish her in the way he had been.

“ _Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you’ll try._ ” Her voice floated almost effortlessly through the air, calming him almost instantly. Her voice nearly broke as she saw him blink away tears, and she had to remind herself of the fact that he might have been a monster in her mind, but he was a monster she had once loved; a monster who was human underneath all the horrible things he’d done.

“ _There will never be a day when I won’t think of you._ ” And at that line, she pressed her lips against his, knowing fully that she was being drawn back into his trap. He brought her closer to him, grasping at her arms in a needy fashion. He pulled away from her, only to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t leave me again,” he began, his voice softer than she had ever heard him speak. She had caught him during bad times, but she never heard him sound the way he did then: desperate and scared. “I need you, I need you here with me.” He continued. She knew his words were too good to be true, but she pulled him closer, taking a risk she wouldn’t have done otherwise. For all she knew, he was going to stick a knife in her back.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he relished in her touch, remembering what it was like having a mental breakdown like that without anyone around. Lucille had been around for longer than most of the other members of his “family,” and he almost always considered her to be the missing piece to him. She completed him in a way he couldn’t explain, yet he still treated her poorly out of fear that she’d leave… and then she did. Now that she was back he had to make sure she wouldn’t leave again. Now, her leaving was an excuse for him to treat her poorly. If he hit her, it was because she left. If he raped her, it was because she left. If he gave her things then took them away, it was because she left.

He couldn’t explain how infuriating it was to see her with another man that night, but he could take it out on others. First, the man himself, then her. He couldn’t help but think about how that man didn’t matter anymore. Lucille wasn’t leaving, and even if she did he knew that she’d come crawling back because **_no one_** was like him.

“God I love you.” He muttered against her lips. She smiled slightly, forgetting almost every single horrible thing he’d done to her in the past.

He then took her under the night sky for all the world to hear.

 


End file.
